


too far, too late

by florfering



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, Machine!Hank, like he's both an android and he went down the machine path, reverse au, unapologetic angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 19:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15517008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florfering/pseuds/florfering
Summary: Alone, Hank visits Detective Keller.Alone, he leaves.





	too far, too late

**Author's Note:**

> this is right after connor quits his job. y'all know whats up :3 
> 
> also, i have some light flashing gifs, so be careful if you're photosensitive! if the second gif doesn't seem like its loading, just wait around until it restarts! i cant use javascript here so i tried my best lol

**DIRECTIVES:**

**TALK TO DETECTIVE KELLER.  
ELIMINATE ANDROID LEADER.**

Hank steps out of the automatic taxi. He tightens his ponytail before pulling out his zippo and fiddling with it, twirling it around in his fingers and calibrating his fine motor skills despite not needing to. It flickers with a weak flame. Glancing at the only window with its light on—the kitchen—he snaps it shut and pockets it. 

He needs to move. It’s nearing midnight. 

As he nears the front door, he waits for the usual cacophony of yips and barks, but they never come. They must be sleeping. Hank hesitates before grabbing the doorknob, finding it unlocked. Detective Keller should remember to lock his doors more, but right now, his forgetfulness is a blessing rather than a curse. 

He quietly opens the door and hears a click that can only be the sound of a gun shooting with a blank round. He knew the detective was unsettled, but the probability of him going back to his old habits was low enough that Hank dismissed it. 

A miscalculation. 

He mentally notes to tell Stern later and creeps into the living room. As he approaches the kitchen, he can see Detective Keller sitting at the table. He’s staring down at his phone placed in front of him, the gun held loosely in his hand. A finger rests on the trigger. 

“Hey, Hank.” Exhaustion colors his voice. He hasn’t looked at Hank yet, instead opting to keep his unfocused eyes cast downward.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier, Detective. I know it was my fault.”

No sign that he heard him. 

“You really should stop looking at that photo.” 

Hank slowly inches closer to the detective while running a scan on him. 

**STRESS LEVEL: 0%**  
**BLOOD ALCOHOL CONCENTRATION: ESTIMATED 0.085%**  
**PROBABILITY OF DETECTIVE KELLER’S SUICIDE: INDETERMINATE.**  


Hank’s less than a foot away now. He studies the image displayed on Detective Keller’s phone. It’s of the detective and another man, shorter than him. He’s pressing his lips in a smile against the detective’s face, scrunched up and captured in a giggle. The screen darkens from inactivity, and Detective Keller lets it. It locks.

“You know, I never could really decide my feelings on androids. On one hand, I know I loved Matthew. Other than that damn armband, you couldn’t tell him apart from a human. It fucking killed me when I saw his dead body lying on our porch and no one gave a shit about his murder because he had blue blood. But, on the other hand, there’s you.” And Detective Keller finally flicks his gaze up at Hank. 

He cocks his head, adjusts the arm with the gun so he can rest his cheek against his palm. His face presses against the metal. It can’t be comfortable. “You’re an asshole who focuses only on the mission. You shoot other androids without as much as a second thought and could easily crush Reed in a fight. You don’t give a shit about pissing people off if it’s not related to your objective.”

“But sometimes, I can see something like...” he trails off, eyes drifting to the side. “Sympathy. Concern.” He closes his eyes and doesn’t move. He seems peaceful, even with the dark bruises smeared under his eyes and the cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes. 

Hank thinks he’s fallen asleep when his eyes snap open, focused on him with an unnerving gaze. “Those are human emotions, Hank,” he whispers. Challenges. 

“I’m not a deviant,” Hank states. Slowly. It sounds self-assured and monotone as ever, but a side of Detective Keller’s mouth pulls up in a wry smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. Hank feels—calculates, _predicts_. He doesn’t feel—that the detective disagrees. 

“Who’s to say? I’m not at all useful to your directives anymore. Not since my brother took over the case, so if I—” he expertly spins the cylinder and flips his pistol so that the barrel is pressed against his temple, “—were at risk to die, would you stop me?”

His gaze is piercing, and Hank suddenly remembers why Detective Keller was also known as the Negotiator. His ability to read people, and now, Hank, is extremely accurate. Crucial when pacifying unpredictable and dangerous suspects in the field, terrifying when dissecting them in the interrogation room. 

“Would you save a life if it was completely unrelated to your mission?”

Hank’s LED cycles yellow. He doesn’t move. 

It’s silent for a minute. the only audible noise the one of Detective Keller’s breathing. 

“So I thought.” Detective Keller drops his hand. “You should go now, Hank. You have a mission to accomplish. Wouldn’t want me stopping you, now, would you?” 

Hank doesn’t move. 

“Leave, Hank.” Connor’s voice breaks. 

Hank doesn’t move. 

“Go!” A tear slips down his cheek, but his expression is set. 

**DIRECTIVE: ELIMINATE ANDROID LEADER.**

Hank turns. He doesn’t look back. He exits the house. 

Hank’s LED still glows yellow. 

He closes the door. He walks out to the sidewalk.

Detective Keller will die today. He feels something grip in his chest. It hurts. 

Androids don’t feel pain. 

His abdomen feels heavy. With guilt?

Androids don't feel.

…

Detective Keller will die.

His directive is to eliminate the Android Leader. 

Detective Keller will—

His directive is—

_Detective Keller—_

_His directive—_

…

He doesn't want to lose Detective Keller.

_He wants to save Connor._

**NEW DIRECTIVE: SAVE CONNOR.**

Hank spins on his heels, forgets all technical precision and perfection in the flurry of emotion and _panic_. He rushes back to the entrance, cutting through the grass and ignoring everything else. He’s grappling with the door and he manages to slam it open when—

_Bang._

His hand falls from the doorknob. Connor is slumped over the table.

A clamor starts. It’s a cacophony of yips and barks. They ring in his ears. 

For once, Hank’s processing grinds to a halt. 

For once, he doesn’t know what to do.

For once, he moves without thinking. 

Hank walks over to Connor. His eyes are glazed over. The bullet had entered the side of his head. Scarlet splatters the wall.

Hank brushes aside a lock of Connor’s hair—the one that never falls into place. His fingers touch the blood and he holds it up to the light. 

Connor’s blood. 

He samples it and logs the time of death. 

There’s not much else he can do. The police will arrive soon. 

Hank leaves. 

**DIRECTIVE FAILED: SAVE CONNOR.**

**NEW DIRECTIVE: …**

**Author's Note:**

> if you got any questions about anything rly, shoot me an ask or dm on tumblr @florfering!! i hope yall enjoyed it and thanks for reading :>


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